AN: I always thought Preston got a bit of a hard time and having recently got season 4 on DVD I actually think he's rather misunderstood. So, here's a story about Colorado's favourite banker! I hope you'll read and review!

September 1870

It had been so long since she had been in Colorado Springs that she wondered if she would recognise it when she saw it. Indeed, the journey there was altogether different. Eight years earlier, when she had left the town, it had been by rickety stagecoach. Now, she was arriving back on a train. With a wry smile, she wondered what her father would say if he were alive. He had never believed in the train coming to Colorado Springs, writing it off as a new-fangled invention that would never catch on. How surprised he would be to see his own daughter arriving back to town in one.

She lifted her book again and read another few pages before dropping it back onto her lap again. For some reason, she hadn't been able to concentrate since they had left Denver, preferring to gaze out at the lush fall scenery. The leaves on the trees were turning, the sun shone low and dazzling and the air had a cold tinge to it.

"Only in Colorado," she murmured to herself. As she rested her head back against the seat, she thought about the letter she had received a few weeks earlier in Boston and at how incensed and even frightened she had felt reading the words.

Dear Miss McKendrick

It has come to our attention that the repayments on your father's loan have recently ceased. As you will be aware, your father took out a substantial loan with us a number of years ago to help with the maintenance of your family farm. The loan was due to be repaid at a monthly sum of one hundred and eighty-five dollars and, until three months ago, this repayment was being adequately met. Unfortunately, it appears that circumstances have since changed. You will understand that, as a business, we require to collect from our debtors. We therefore require immediate payment of all outstanding sums due on your father's loan along with the requisite interest.

Of course, should you wish to discuss this matter, you will be aware that we have recently opened a branch of the bank in Colorado Springs. Please do not hesitate to make an appointment at your earliest convenience.

Kindest regards

Preston A. Lodge III

President, National Trust Bank

She shook her head at the thought of it. In the forty years that he had been a farmer in Colorado Springs, Angus McKendrick had never once defaulted on a payment. She knew he would be turning in his grave if he knew what was happening now. She hadn't known that the loan wasn't being repaid and that thought alone made her angrier with herself. She had been away too long, had shunned the responsibilities which were now hers and had apparently left the family business in the hands of someone clearly incapable of looking after it.

After her father died, she had left the running of the farm in the capable hands, or so she thought, of Henry Elder. He had been her father's right hand man for many years and she had grown up calling him Uncle Henry. They had corresponded for some time after her father died, but his letters had stopped. She had obviously been too wrapped up with her life in Boston to realise that something was very wrong.

"Next stop Colorado Springs!"

The shouting of the guard brought her back to reality. She got up from her seat and lifting her bag, made her way towards the door. She wanted to see what had become of the town as she pulled into it. Pushing down the window, she stuck her head out into the cold breeze and, holding onto her hat, watched as the train station grew closer. She could hardly believe the transformation as the train pulled to a slow halt. People were hurrying about everywhere. It was almost as if it was a different town.

As she climbed down from the carriage and looked around, she suddenly caught sight of a familiar face dealing with some packages. "Horace! Horace Bing!" Horace looked up at the sound of his name and regarded her with some confusion. "You haven't changed a bit!"

"I'm sorry Miss…" Horace replied, stuttering for words, "have we been introduced?"

"You don't remember me?" she asked. He shook his head, "Bing, bing, bing goes the bell?"

Recognition suddenly dawned in his eyes, "Rebecca? Rebecca McKendrick!" He stepped forward and hugged her, "Why, you're all grown up! I haven't seen you since…since…"

"It's been a long time," Rebecca laughed, "eight years to be precise!"

"How old are you now?"

"Now, Horace, you know better than to ask a lady her age." She watch him redden, "but seeing as it's you…I'll be twenty five this winter."

"Gosh…" Horace admired her, "You sure got pretty too." It was Rebecca's turn to blush. "Oh!" He turned to look behind him. "This is my wife, Myra, and our daughter Samantha."

"Myra," Rebecca extended her hand, "it's so nice to meet you."

"And you," Myra replied. "You come a long way?"

"Boston."

"Oh…" Myra laughed, "Another one! We sure seem to attract people from Boston to this town!"

"Our local doctor, Doctor Mike, she's from Boston," Horace said.

"A lady doctor?" Rebecca raised her eyebrows, "that's very forward thinking for Colorado Springs."

"She's a great doctor," Myra enthused, "You'll really like her."

"I'm sure I will."

"Oh, and Preston," Horace added, "he's from Boston too."

"That wouldn't happen to be Preston A Lodge III, would it?" Rebecca asked. Horace nodded. "I thought as much. I'm afraid my visit here isn't exactly for pleasure." She sighed, "You'll be aware that my father died last year?"

"Yes," Horace nodded, "We were real sorry to hear it too. Your pa was a great man. He was always so kind to me."

"Thank you. It seems however that much of his kindness and trust was misplaced. The person I entrusted the farm to hasn't exactly been doing their best to keep it going."

Horace and Myra exchanged looks. "You mean Henry Elder?" the latter asked.

Rebecca nodded, "Do you know what's been happening?"

"He took off about three months ago," Horace said, "not a word to anyone."

"What about the farm?"

"'Fraid I don't know. No-one's been up that way as far as I know."

Rebecca sighed. "Well, the bank is threatening to foreclose. I have to go and speak with Mr Lodge about an extension."

"Good luck," Horace replied bitterly. Myra nudged him. "I'll…make sure your luggage is all set up on a wagon to take you out to the farm later."

"Thank you Horace," Rebecca patted his arm, "Can you direct me towards the bank?"

"You can't miss it," he replied, "just across from the clinic."

Rebecca made her excuses and started to walk from the station up towards the centre of town. As she did, she looked around in wonder at all the changes that had been made. There was so much new business, new life that she was beginning to wonder if it was the same place. As she neared the main square, she caught sight of the sign above what used to be Charlotte Cooper's boarding house.

"Michaela Quinn Medicine Woman," she murmured to herself. "Interesting." Then, she turned and found herself face to face with the bank, the large clock bored into the front wall informing her that it was after ten o'clock. She paused, unsure if she was ready for what would undoubtedly be a battle. Then she remembered precisely whose daughter she was so, holding her head high, she made her way inside.

Glancing around, she was surprised at how small it was, so different from the main headquarters of the bank in Boston. She had visited it a few times to deal with her savings and had always marvelled at its vastness. This was quite different and yet, so suited to a town such as Colorado Springs. The bank was empty except for a man sat at a desk in the back, looking through some paperwork. He appeared to be unaware of her presence until she coughed conspicuously. He looked up, got up from the desk and came forward.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, you probably can," Rebecca replied, "I'd like to speak with Mr Preston Lodge please."

"Well, you are indeed speaking with him," he replied with a smile, "is there something in particular I can help you with?"

Rebecca reached into her purse and took out the letter. "I'm assuming it was you who sent me this."

He took it from her and read it quickly, "Ah yes, Miss McKendrick. Won't you come through?" He gestured for her to come through and take a seat at his desk which she duly did. He sat down opposite her. "I'm sorry if the letter came as a surprise to you…"

"Yes, it did," she interrupted. "It also came as something of a disappointment."

"Disappointment?"

"My father lived in this town all his life. Banked with this bank all his life and never once did he miss a repayment on his loan."

"I can appreciate that, but you see…"

"My father passed away last year."

"I know," Preston said, "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"I'm not interested in your pity, Mr Lodge," Rebecca said, feeling renewed confidence with each word, "I'm more interested in what makes you think you can write me a letter like this after the loyal custom my family has provided your bank with. Not just here, but in Boston too."

"Is that where you're from?" Preston seized on the nugget of information. "I assure you that if you had been living in town, I would have noticed you."

Rebecca thought she might well bring back up her breakfast. "If you're trying to flatter me, Mr Lodge, it won't work. I may have travelled from Boston where I have been living for the last eight years, but I was born and bred right here in Colorado Springs. My family is well known here. I regret that I clearly haven't been kept fully informed of the circumstances surrounding my father's farm. I understand that the man I left in charge left town quite suddenly. He was in charge of everything, including the repayments of the loan. He was a loyal and trusted friend." Rebecca looked down, still somewhat unable to believe that Uncle Henry had let her down so badly. "At least I thought he was."

When she looked up again, she saw Preston looking at her sympathetically. "What is it you're asking me for?"

Rebecca looked him in the eye, "I can't afford to repay the full loan as you are requesting. Not right now. I have money tied up in the bank in Boston which is very difficult to access at short notice."

"So, you're looking for an extension on the loan?"

"Yes."

"Miss McKendrick…you'll be aware that it's not standard practice…"

"I appreciate that."

"We're a business here. We have to make money, otherwise what is the point? If your father's farm is failing…"

"I don't intend to let that happen," Rebecca said, her eyes dark with anger. "I'll run it myself if I have to." Preston started to laugh before he could seemingly stop himself. "I'm sorry, but what is so amusing?"

"I apologise," he said, "you may have been born here Miss McKendrick but you've clearly been educated to a standard far greater than that of running a farm."

"That farm was my home for many years. It was my father's home. I don't intend to just let it go to rack and ruin." Rebecca got to her feet, suddenly all too aware that she was close to tears. "Now, are you prepared to help me, or not?"

Preston stood up and surveyed her. "What are you offering?"

"Give me two months to get things back on track. Two months in which to get back up to date with the loan repayments."

"And if you can't?"

"Then you can have the farm and we'll part with no bad feelings." Rebecca held out her hand and realised it was shaking, "Do we have a deal?"

If he saw this, Preston chose to ignore it and shook her proffered hand, "All right. Two months. But that's it. There will be no further extensions."

"I understand," Rebecca replied, relief flooding through her at this temporary lifeline. "Thank you Mr Lodge."

"Please," he said, "call me Preston." Caught slightly unawares under his gaze, Rebecca felt herself redden. "May I call you Rebecca?"

She was about to say yes when something inside her made her stop. She barely knew this man. He was holding the keys to her future in his hands and yet wished to know her on a level that seemed inappropriately intimate. It wasn't the done thing. She drew herself up and fixed him with her most magnanimous look. "No Mr Lodge," she replied, "you may not."